Of old spinsters and Mr Right
by Tudesky the Tulip
Summary: Happy little epilogue to 5x13. It's boys' night in and Michael makes some margaritas. Brian interrupts drunken discussions about cocks with his his self-pity and Emmett… Emmett really should rethink this bridal creation.


Disclaimer: All characters are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.

Inspired by textsfromlastnight. This is my voice in a discussion about how pointless was Brian and Justin's break up since they obviously are made for each other, period.

"Right. It's official. I am going to die alone, old spinster, found two weeks after his death by my neighbor's German shepherd." Emmett threw himself on the couch, careful not to spill his third cosmo.

"You sound like a very sad, very gay Bridget Jones," murmured Ted into his beer.

"No, no, no." Emmett waved his cosmo around, spilling a bit on the carpet. "I'm telling you. It's the truth. It's sad, it's depressing, it's..."

"Self-centered?"

"Hey!" Michael leaned out of the kitchen, obviously not very pleased. "It's going to leave a stain..."

"You go back to mixing those margaritas, honey!" Emmett smiled brightly. There were some quiet comments, followed by infernal noises made by the blender Michael and Ben should have thrown out years ago.

"I'm very happy for you all!" yelled Emmett in his drunken tirade. "You're all such wonderful husband materials! Well, except for our little Miss Hangover..."

As soon as the blender was on, Brian moaned from his dark corner of self-pity, curling on the armchair into a little ball of remains of the last night's drunken madness.

"Turn. This shit. Off!" he screamed, wallowing in self-centeredness and abandonment issues.

Michael smiled brightly, putting a big jug full of margarita on a small coffee table.

"Should have taken us with you. Now you can go to your loft and be suicidal there or wait here and somehow cope that it's our turn to have fun," he said softly, oblivious to Brian's stuck out tongue.

"Fun? This? You're calling... Uh, nevermind."

"What? We're doing it in the traditional way of discussing why we dislike our jobs, our lives and yours and Justin's separation while sharing a cheesecake and alcohol. Just like the natives do." Ted finished his beer and went to the kitchen to get another one.

"Gee, let's leave our man/child and let's make a toast! Oh, or I'm going to show you what my little cousin Mila sent me! It's a project of her bridal dress! It's really, really stunning. In a non-redneck kind of way." Emmett ran to his bag, spilling what was left of his cosmo and returned with a big pile of papers.

"I tell myself every day I shouldn't be friends with you," murmured Brian from his corner of decadence.

"Oh yeah? And who is going to put up with you if not us? I can't see a line standing up," snapped Emmett.

He sat between Ted and Michael and showed them the sketches. Something there definitely resembled a dress before it was butchered into pieces and left as something you could only call a bridal bikini.

"Oh God, this is what a white trash Barbie must have been buried in."

Brian was hit in the head with the sketches, so he just went back to sulking, so as not to disturb bits of noisy machinery in his skull.

"Okay, okay, guys. I know this dress is really slutty..."

"Yeah, this dress is irreparably slutty," Ted smirked a bit, taking the sketch and looking at it from another angle.

"But! It's okay. It's okay! Because. Because! I have resigned myself long time ago to being a family scandal. So. If my little cousin wants to wear it and it's gonna make her happy, I can pull off something weirder so she wouldn't be alone. That's our deal."

"Em? Drink the goddamn margarita and just make her wear something..." Ted tried to be diplomatic.

"Oh, something that Lindsay wore on her wedding day! It was cute."

"Are you kidding? It was... Okay, very Lady Di type of elegance but my little cousin? Oh, I just can't picture her in something so... It's just not her style, you know."

"Ugh, I miss culture and lesbians already." Brian made a heroic quest for a glass of water. "I can feel my ovaries exploding by simply thinking about them!"

"Brian?" Michael was trying to be patient. "We know you feel alone and miserable but really, it's not like Justin's never going back..."

"Honestly, I hope he isn't."

Everyone looked at Brian like he's just announced being pregnant.

He simply drank the rest of his water in one gulp and raised an eyebrow.

"What? I'm happy for him. He's got his life, I have mine, he's happy, I'm happy..."

"Yeah, it must be true since you look ecstatic," snorted Ted.

Emmett simply looked at Brian and Michael rose up from his seat to hug him, looking at him like a puppy, which Brian secretly hated.

"Brian, I'm so sorry... I had no idea you were so unhappy."

"Yeah, well. You're sorry, I'm sorry, everyone's sorry. It's... Really, it's only time."

"Only time?," shrieked Emmett. "You told him that? That it's 'only time'? What are you, mental? That's no way to say goodbye to the love of your life!"

Brian raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, yeah. You're right! That's no way to tell a lady such bad news," he snorted sarcastically, burying himself again in the armchair.

"Cut the crap. What really happened?"

"Jesus Christ, nothing happened! I couldn't make him stay with me! He had a dream so he's chasing it in New York and I'm..."

"Drinking yourself to sleep and fucking to death?" Ted finished after him.

"Yeah." Emmett sipped his margarita. "Brian needs a hormone stopper. Or a chastity belt."

"I regret nothing," murmured Brian, reaching for the blanket.

Emmett smacked his hand.

"Brian! Did you or did you not fight for him? Because if you didn't and you just let him go, I'm going to kill you, revive you, put you in a suit, in a plane and make you propose to him like a decent man I know you keep somewhere deep down inside, in chains, in a closet, gagged!"

"Enlighten me, why are our drunk alter egos so much more successful in managing Brian than us?" Ted raised an eyebrow.

Michael simply shrugged.

"This is just pathetic. Emmett, leave him be."

"Yeah, tonight let's celebrate not being married! Oh no, wait." Brian growled and buried himself in a blanket, creating a safe cocoon.

"Okay, hon, let's talk about your boy, huh?" Emmett smiled brightly to Ted. "Lately you're like those... Siamese twins! He never leaves your side."

"Yeah, Siamese twins. Joined ass to crotch."

"Brian, either you want to join the conversation or shut your big queer mouth and suck on some dildo! Jesus! Give me another one!"

Brian smiled sarcastically and, draped in a blanket, went to sit in the armchair near coffee table.

"Well... Blake. He's... Wonderful, really," Ted smiled lovingly. "He's a bit socially awkward."

"He has a big dick." Brian poured himself a margarita. "What?"

Ted shook his head.

"Girls. We've had this talk before." Brian said, matter-of-factly. "They're socially awkward because they don't leave the house. They just sit home and play with it!"

Emmett smiled patiently.

"We should have put him to sleep when we had a chance."

"And deprave the world of my gorgeous presence? Not a chance. You'd get complaints. For example, last night. A guy. Nicely tanned. Perfect ass. Cocky. In the end he meowed so hard, I couldn't hear the neighbor banging at my door. Apparently the party downstairs didn't appreciate our interpretation of Jack O'Tool's latest piece."

"He meowed? You made a man meow?" Ted gasped softly.

"You're right, Michael. He's the incarnation of Satan. No dignity. No shame." Emmett shook his head.

"He... Meowed?"

"Who are you I kidding, I don't have any dignity. But I still got _it_." Brian smirked. "Plus – we were not doing a porno. Just doing random things naked."

"Actually... Meowed?"

No one realized Brian wasn't talking about last night. It was a memory of the night Justin had gotten the highest mark from his art project. Brian wanted to show him he was proud. In his own depraved way.

"It's all because of the munchers," he whispered after a while, after being completely silent, deep in his thoughts.

"What?"

"We're all ears."

"Mel and Lindsay?"

"They told him to follow his dreams. That he was destined to become an artist. They told me that. They knew I wouldn't stop him. I wanted him happy," he said softly.

"But he's not!" Emmett almost squeaked.

"What?"

"Brian, he's miserable. And when he calls, he only asks after you," said Michael softly.

"How are you. How many did you fuck last night..." Ted waved his hand.

"Do you miss him," said Emmett quietly.

Brian frowned and blinked a couple of times.

"I... I've gotta go." He said, with a small smile.

Brian took his jacket and in a matter of seconds, before anyone realized, he was gone.

Being an irresponsible, childish rebel that he was, of course he texted while driving.

"_I don't know if it has occurred to you yet, but you are dating a nymphomaniac, and your little departure is an interference of my needs being fulfilled. Get home. Now."_


End file.
